Zombies, Werewolves, Badasses, OH MY
by Kamryn-Marie-Pack
Summary: Yes, a zombie outbreak has sprung up in Beacon Hills. Of course, having read the entire Walking Dead series, Stiles is prepared and is ready to rock. They gather the gang and fight to stay alive. Sterek, Scott/Allison, Sherriff Stilinski/Mama McCall, Jackson/Danny, Erica/Isaac.
1. Chapter 1

**Idea from Brightnail on Tumblr. GAHH! Her/His idea was amazing and then this was born so yeah. **

**Btw, I don't own teen wolf. Kinda obvious because if I did, STEREK. Nuff' said. **

**.REVIEW!**

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"This…Is not actually happening right now, right?" Stiles asked aloud, as he and his father peered through the blinds at the street outside. That was currently crawling with ZOMBIES. Having read every issue of Walking Dead in existence, Stiles knew his shit. And those were _definitely _zombies. Gray-ish flesh, ripped, and rotting. They seriously needed some moisturizer or something…

Sherriff Stilinski nodded numbly. "Dad, what the hell are we gonna do?" Stiles asked, his voice uncomfortably high. He was so scared shitless right now, even more so than the first time Scott had wolfed out and nearly killed him. His dad stared for a few more seconds before stumbling away from the window and gulping down a few breaths.

"I-I don't know…" He mumbled, looking at the kitchen floor as if it was about to crack open and eat him up. Which, with all the crazy shit going on outside, didn't seem like such an extreme thought. Stiles looked back and forth from his father to the zombies a few times. His dad was actually…lost. He had absolutely no idea what to do for once. It was at that moment, Stiles was glad he hadn't stopped re-reading Walking Dead. Or ever stopped watching Romero movies… Stiles lunged away from the window and steeled himself before bitch-slapping his own dad across the face. He flinched as his dad gasped and stumbled to the side from the force of the blow. But the Sherriff turned to his son with a resolved face.

"Thanks," John (Stiles' dad) mumbled. Stiles nodded once and pulled out his phone, immediately dialing Allison. If anyone's family was more equipped to survive a Zombie Apocalypse it was the Argents. As much as he hated them, Allison not included, the Stilinski's needed their help. A lot.

"Stiles! Do you have any idea what the hell is going on? I tried calling Scott around a million times but he never answered! Stiles, I'm really worried!" Allison rambled, sniffling and slurring.

"Calm down, Allison, listen to me. Can you guys come over to my house? We're in desperate need of some assistance right now." He pleaded, hoping that Chris Argent would go for it. And Gerard, the wrinkly bastard. Allison sniffled again and breathed out a shaky, "Yeah, gimme a sec." Stiles sighed in relief and looked to his dad's confused expression.

"The Argents are coming to help…Hopefully." He informed. His dad nodded, said something about getting weapons, and then took off towards the stairs.

It was Chris that came back on the line. "We're on our way. You better have a plan, Stilinski." And then he hung up. Stiles sighed again and ran up the stairs after his dad. Peeking into his father's bedroom, he saw his dad looking through his gun-cabinet. Stiles ducked into his own room and froze. What was one supposed to wear while kicking Zombie ass? Well, something bad-ass obviously. Too bad, Stiles didn't really own any bad-ass clothes. So he settled on throwing on his warm, blood-red hoodie and zipping it up tight. He grabbed the bat from the corner of his room and swung it a few times, testingly, imagining cracking open a few Zombie-Skulls.

Hearing the sound of an assumingly-huge vehicle pull up outside, Stiles ran to the window and saw Chris Argent's big silver hummer. _Awesome._ Stiles ran across the hallway to his dad's door.

"They're here."

"Good." His dad snapped a shotgun shut and looked totally bad-ass in a bullet-proof vest. Stiles nodded his approval and they both took the steps two at a time to the front door and were at the hummer in seconds.

The second they were in, Stiles expected Chris to floor it, but he turned around in his seat and looked to Stiles.

"What's the plan?" He asked. Gerard shook his head and scoffed from the passenger seat like he couldn't believe they were taking orders from a sixteen year old. Stiles glanced at Allison, who looked like she was trying not to start _bawling_ her eyes out.

"Go to Scott's. We need to see if he's okay." He said. Chris nodded and they were off.


	2. Chapter 2

**I CONTINUED IMMEDIATELY. I looooove it. **

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When they slammed to a stop in front of Scott's house, Allison was kicking open the front door before Stiles could stumble out of the Hummer after her.

His dad followed, gun up and ready, just in case. Stiles readied his bat, too. Making their way slowly inside, they glanced around for anything out-of-place.

Allison rushed down the steps with Scott's mother in tow. Melissa was hyperventilating and John took one look at her before scooping her up into his arms easily and taking her to the car.

"He's not here." Allison almost-literally growled as she shoved past Stiles, who followed her quickly back to the car. Chris looked to Stiles again.

"Okay, you may disagree with me on this, but we need to go to Derek's house." He said. Gerard laughed.

"You honestly think we're going to-" He was interrupted by Allison, surprisingly.

"Dad! Just go!" She hollered. Chris nodded and took off towards the woodsy, off-road path that lead to the Hale house, not bothering to swerve to avoid hitting zombies along the way. Thankfully, the back-seat of the Hummer was huge and easily sat all four of them. John had finally calmed Melissa down and was whispering to her that everything was going to be okay, they were going to find Scott, they were going to be fine.

Chris slowed down as they got closer to the shell of a house, that wasn't quite in sight yet. When they entered the clearing and saw all the other cars parked in a cluster, Stiles could have screamed in relief. The whole gang was standing around the yard, various weapons in their hands. They whirled around to see the Hummer park next to Derek's Camaro. When everyone was out and seen, Scott and Allison ran to each other like some cheesy movie but Stiles couldn't really blame them. Scott embraced his mother then and she gripped him back fiercely, kissing his forehead repeatedly. As Stiles looked around, he even saw Danny there. Derek walked towards him during all the hugs and kisses.

"As much as I hate the Argents, it was smart of you to bring them. We need all the people we can get right now." He admitted, watching as his pack kept shooting Gerard nervous glances.

"I suggest we all head inside." Derek called. Everyone followed him inside and they sat around the dining table.

"We have to go somewhere more secure." Gerard argued. Derek glared. "What's not secure about my home?" He practically snarled. Everyone that didn't know about the whole were-wolf thing tensed and glanced between the two. Gerard scoffed.

"It's a burnt-out, shell of a house." He stated. Derek slammed his fists to the table and stood, his chair knocking over behind him violently.

"And who's to blame for that?" He shouted, a hint of red flashing across his eyes. All the were-wolves shrank back in the seats as they felt their Alphas rage wash over the room. Even the humans looked like they knew shit was getting bad real fast. Stiles stood and put a hand on Derek's forearm.

"Calm down. Please, this isn't the time. I hate the wrinkly old bastard, too, but right now we _need _to work together. . ." Stiles whispered to him, hoping to whatever god or gods there was that Derek would listen to him for once. The Alpha glanced at Stiles and nodded slowly, letting out a breath. Stiles nodded and sat back down, hating the tense silence that settled over the group as Derek straightened his chair and sat back down.

Stiles glared at Gerard openly, and took a deep breath. "As mush as I _truly hate _Gerard, he's right. We do need to move. I think we should head to the high school. It's pretty secure and it gives everyone enough room to not constantly want to kill each other." He explained. Derek grumbled but couldn't really argue. Lydia stood and raised a hand.

"I second that! Stiles is right, it's the most secure place I can think of that wouldn't have been full of people when the outbreak or whatever hit." Lydia, as always, was right. Derek sighed and stood.

"Fine." He huffed, and walked quickly out of the room. Chris stood.

"Everyone get ready to move. Now." He commanded.

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Somehow, Stiles ended up having to ride shotgun with Derek, who was still being pissy.

"It really is the safest place for us, you know." Stiles started. Derek's jaw clenched before he sighed and rubbed at his forehead with one hand.

"I know. I just hate that smug old fuck." Derek grumbled. Stiles laughed at Derek's creative insult.

'This shit is crazy…" Stiles mumbled, staring out the window at the zombies as they stumbled around and groaned. At least they weren't repeating, "BRAIIIIIIIINS!" over and over again, cause Stiles' figured that shit would get annoying. Derek nodded and winced at something.

"It makes you think, you know…About losing people and…whatnot." Derek started awkwardly. Stiles glanced over at him and smiled.

"Yeah, it does." He reached over and grabbed Derek's right hand, squeezing it tightly and not letting go.

"Derek, I'm scared." He whispered, eyes filling with tears. This shit was so scary. Any one of them could die so easily and everyone from school they knew could be fucking ZOMBIES right now and this was all just so crazy.

"Me, too." Derek mumbled. And somehow, that made it all a lot worse. Derek tightened his grip of Stiles' hand.


End file.
